


Veneration

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22073932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Regis indulges one of Ignis’ easier fantasies.
Relationships: Regis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 13
Kudos: 71





	Veneration

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Regis is a very, _very_ lucky man. He could say that for his title. For his heir, still young and immature but with so much compassionate potential. He has a good staff and many people by his side that he’d trust with his very life. At the moment, the thing that makes him luckiest is his son’s advisor, so very loyal and _good_ to him.

Ignis kneels between his legs, pressed right up against the throne, mouth spread wide around Regis’ aching cock. It’s buried deep down Ignis’ throat, and Ignis hums around it like he’s never tasted anything better in his entire pampered life. Regis has taken such good care of him, and now he returns the favour, in a way Regis would never have expected and shouldn’t have accepted. He tried to say no. But he’s seen the fire in Ignis’ eyes, even now, and he knows how badly Ignis _wants this._ Regis would be perfectly happy to make quiet, peaceful love to his gorgeous lover in the sanctity and privacy of his personal chambers. But Ignis wants to worship his cock in the middle of the throne room, and Regis has no power to refuse. 

No one could. Ignis is too sweet, too suave, too good with his mouth and hands. He takes Regis so far down that it’s a marvel he doesn’t choke, but he never does—he slides rhythmically on and off, slow but steady, in fluid, graceful motions. His hands brace against Regis’ thighs, and Regis fights not to tremble in them. He would never buck forward. He allows Ignis to set the pace and doesn’t hinder that, even though he knows that Ignis would love him to be _rough_. He doesn’t have that in him anymore. He doesn’t have the will to bend Ignis over and fuck him _hard_ , only to give in to his reverent attention. Regis lounges back in his chair and watches Ignis bob up and down. 

It’s difficult to hold back. Only Regis’ many years and experience allow him to last as long as he does—as long as Ignis wants and needs. He knows that Ignis is touching himself, kneading his own dick through his trousers, and he doesn’t want the help for it—he likes to come in his pants from the mere taste of his king’s cock. He sucks hard at it and noses fondly into the dark hairs around the base, lust-clouded eyes flickering up to watch Regis languidly moan. Regis can feel himself building to his end. 

He drops one hand into Ignis’ soft hair and gently pushes Ignis back. Ignis obediently retreats, though he frowns for it, mouth still stretched open and leaking down his chin. Regis asks only, “Where would you like me to come, my love?”

Ignis hesitates. Too often, he has Regis decide—Ignis wants to be _used_ after all: that’s the way he described it. The thing that really gets him off. And Regis tries to oblige, but sometimes all Regis wants is to make Ignis _happy_. Ignis’ tongue traces his pink, swollen lips, and he rasps, “As much as I enjoy swallowing the royal seed... tonight, I think I’d like to feel it drench my face, Your Majesty.”

Regis nods obligingly. If he wasn’t already rock-hard, he’d be stiffening up. He lets go and lets Ignis sink back down onto him, slurping loudly at the drool and precum that he’s left. Regis lets him bob a few more times, then mutters, “Ignis.”

Ignis obediently pulls back. He sits on his haunches and laps solely at the leaking tip like a hungry kitten. His trim fingers move to Regis’ slick shaft and pump it in time with the way he sucked on it before. A few strokes, and Regis shudders, gasping as he comes, splattering Ignis’ face just the way that Ignis wanted. His seed shoots into Ignis’ hair and drapes over his nose, coating his glasses. It drips down his cheeks, his chin, into his open mouth. Ignis shivers and moans as he’s painted, submissively taking every spurt he’s given. 

A few seconds later, he whines and screws up his pretty face—Regis knows he’s coming. Ignis slumps with it, and that’s a gorgeous thing to watch as Regis slowly comes down from his own high. Ignis is so very _beautiful_.

He looks debauched but _perfect_ when he’s got cum on his face. Regis knows the drill—he won’t lick it off for a few minutes yet, because he likes to luxuriate in that feeling. For someone so proper, he can be remarkably _dirty_. Regis knows he’s blessed to see that side. 

With a thoroughly contented exhale, Ignis slumps against Regis’ leg. He looks up into Regis’ face, and all Regis sees is _love_.


End file.
